Ice
by Flying Banana Dinosaur
Summary: Nils and Raigh. Written for a prompt on the old meme. Set in mild FE6 AU.


Those who recognized him were few and far between. Luckily, most of those people were too busy with leading the younger generation to bring the subject up; Lord Eliwood's most trusted knight had, however, pulled him to the side upon the setting of the sun of that first day and welcomed him back with the gift of stories of his beloved elder sister. Though he couldn't speak of his real motives just yet, Nils had been content to watch his nephew grow stronger daily, marveling at how the human body could develop so quickly. By day, he helped old Merlinus manage his wagon, just like in the times before, but at night, he would watch from the shadows as young Roy staggered off to find solace in his bedroll, and then he would distance himself from the army and play.

Each of his songs had a special meaning; that, any musician could appreciate. On these nights, however, the melodies were sacred and close to his heart. The mournful echo of the flute he'd picked up twenty years ago could send chills down even his spine, and that was hard to do with the things he had seen in his lifetime. These melodies were tales from his memory and of the current situation in Elibe, all spelled out for his dear, departed sister. Certainly, in the world beyond, she could hear him and know of her son and of their homeland.

This ritual went on for months. Some of the younger generation had asked, by now, just who he was, and he had replied with bland lies that they bought too easily. His own nephew had gazed upon him with those intelligent blue eyes that he'd inherited from Lord Eliwood, but nothing had come of the meeting. Merlinus had lied for him when he had been unable to speak; he was the grandson of one of his old merchant friends, and was learning the trade by helping the army. Roy had welcomed his presence with well-chosen words of understanding, but it was obvious that the boy knew something deeper was amiss.

So, on this night, Nils played for his late sister a tale of her wise young son, and when he had finished, he felt emptier than usual. Perhaps the reason was the knowledge that he could not let his own family know of his true identity, or perhaps it was just loneliness. With a sigh, the dragon boy leaned back against the trunk of the tree in which he sat and stared up at the full moon, and at the clouds he'd watched as a small child in this very same place. Deep in Ilia, he felt comfortable, yet completely alone. Ninian had always been with him when they were here.

"The hell are you doing?"

The voice was young, but there was an undoubtedly sharp tone underlying the lack of sentiment in those words. Surprised, Nils looked down to the ground. There stood a boy, perhaps the same height as he, himself, would be upon the frozen snow. His verdant hair had been tousled by the northern winds, and his bright cerulean eyes were squinting against the chill, but this child was no weakling. Nils knew that – he had seen him in battle with that giant tome of his, cursing their enemies with his powerful black magic.

"I should ask the same of you." He chose his words carefully. He couldn't let his guard down, especially not to someone so witty. "Shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

"Shouldn't _you_?"

"Well spoken." Nils huffed and crossed his arms, his flute forgotten on his lap. "However, I'm merely Lord Merlinus's aide. I have no use for being up with the sun."

"Don't play that with me. You're out here every damn night by yourself, playing those creepy songs. I've never even heard one of them."

"That's because I wrote them myself, save for the Rondeau of Ice. I always see you with your nose shoved in some book or another; surely, you've heard of that one?"

The human boy snorted. "Of course I have. But how was I supposed to know it if there were no words?"

Nils shook his head. This one didn't understand the emotion behind his tales. "You have to feel it. That song was written here in Ilia over a thousand years ago. Its melody has been lost over the ages, but the feeling behind it is what counts, don't you know? The tale of the Dragon upon the Mountain and her tragic love is a romance that can't be expressed with just words."

"...I understand. It's like casting a spell, then, your songs? It takes every fiber of your being, all drawn to a single focus; like spilling yourself into a form that isn't tangible."

The dragon boy was impressed. "Absolutely. There's not much of a difference in what we do. The way a swordsman wields his sword is the best way to read his soul, if you will." Carefully, he tucked his beloved instrument into its pouch on his belt. He left the comfort of the branches above and joined the shivering young boy, slightly amused at how fragile the human body was. The ice was his element; would it not appear too outlandish, he would have donned short pants instead of the thick twill that shielded him from the wind. That had always been his preference, but he was trying not to stand out. "What is your name?"

"Raigh."

Nils could see, then, a resemblance to a girl he'd met many years ago. The boy's knack for spell casting suddenly made sense. "Very well, Raigh. My name is Nils, though I'd appreciate it if you didn't go spreading the word to your friends."

"Pff." Raigh rolled his eyes. "They're not my friends. Just acquaintances."

"Right then. Anyhow, if you would care to learn more about the art of music, I'm sure I could shed some light on it for you." He didn't want to admit that he could use the company.

"All right. I'm sure I could use it in my studies." This was a lie, judging by his tone; maybe Raigh was just as lonely as he was. "But, before anything else, I want to know something."

"...What is it?"

"How did you know the melody of a song that hasn't been heard for a thousand years?"

Nils blanched. The boy was even sharper than he'd judged! As his mouth flapped awkwardly, his brain unable to come up with the words to answer the question, Raigh continued.

"If you've got some ancient tome or something, you better cough it up."

Nils resisted the urge to kick himself.

* * *

Edit 3/22/2013: Came back, fixed one glaring grammatical error, changed Raigh's name to its localized spelling.


End file.
